- from the book 'the Book of France' edited by Winifred Stephens 1915
- 'Diary of a Hospital Nurse'
- by La Duchesse de Rohan Douairiere
- Translated by Millicent, Duchess of Sutherland.
a Frenchwoman Goes Nursing
Rumours of war grow more insistent; there is electricity in the air; every one is perturbed, and all thoughtful minds are agitated. One wants to be up and doing, to try and be of use, and so stifle thought by an almost feverish activity.
In order to train as a Hospital Nurse I ask Mme. Tenre to admit me to her Dispensary in the Maison Marie-Helene at Puteaux, near the Pont de Neuilly, where they tend sick or wounded children, and distribute sterilised milk to the needy babies of that district. A European war has been declared-it seems to me a universal war! There has been fierce fighting, and already there are many victims. Will they soon bring the wounded to our Dispensary? Devotedly Mme. Tenre prepared for their reception. Beds and the necessary equipment were bought, but they told us that, owing to our position between the two firing lines, of the enemy and of Paris, it would not be safe to bring patients here.
Too well aware of my lack of training in comparison with my companions, who are, or believe themselves, founts of knowledge, I worked night and day for the first nursing examination-first at the Lyceum, then at the Rue St. Guillaume, and lastly at the Foyer, where Mdlle. Loze, daughter of the late Prefect of Police and Ambassador to Vienna, and the Baronne Cottu were indefatigable in teaching us the practical parts of our business: how to make beds, how to turn our patients without hurting them, how to cup, to make injections, dress wounds, etc. Lectures were given both by men and women doctors.
I passed my examination with the mark "Very good," and applied for work at the Croix-Rouge. "Make arrangements with the Comtesse de Grailly," said the President, Comtesse d'Haussonville. "She is organising a hospital at St. Malo, in your own part of the world." I hastened to the Prefecture of Police for permission to leave Paris by motor-car; Mme. de Grailly gave me rendezvous at Rennes, and I set off with my friend, Baronne de Pierrebourg. It was September 2, the day the Germans were to enter Paris, to trample the soil of our capital. Should I ever see my home again? Close to the Eiffel Tower, I feared it was doomed to destruction.
It is difficult to describe the vicissitudes of that journey. We circled round the Bois de Boulogne to find a way out; all the gates, with the exception of the Porte Maillot, were closed. We reached Versailles, and with a thousand hindrances we passed through the entrenched Camp of Paris, and saw the deserted farms, the empty inns, the desolate plains that had been so flourishing only a few weeks ago; all was ruined; nevertheless our soldiers were brave and cheery. At Chartres the congestion of traffic at the station prevented us from taking the train; we had to continue by motor, going through Chateaudun, which was full of wounded; and next day, with great difficulty, being challenged at every gate to give our names and credentials, we reached the town of Mans.
Here one might have been in England. British uniforms pervaded the streets; the crowd was so great that it was difficult to push through or even get food. My little Red Cross flag gave us the entree to the station platform, and the kindness of an obliging captain obtained permission for us to take tickets for Rennes; this, it appeared, was an immense favour. What numbers of emigrants from the suburbs of Paris were thronging the railway carriages, poor children crying for milk, people ruined, panic- stricken! We reached Rennes at 1 A.M. after travelling for two days.
Our Hospital was to have been organised at St. Malo, but it was now decided to put us under military control, and to convert the Lyce'e de Jeunes Filles at Rennes into an Auxiliary Military Hospital.
There was nothing ready; everything had to be done. This institution was founded by Frere Chrysostome of the Congregation Lamennais de Josselin for secondary education; the house was large and airy, and a terraced garden in front relieved the severity of the building. On one side there was a court with offices opening on to it, and to the left the chapel, now transformed into a ward with forty beds, where I was to be on duty. I was well content; the poetry of the stained-glass windows, the view over Rennes and the surrounding country, the memories of the pious brothers, cast a spell and gave me courage.
While waiting for the wounded we organised the operating theatre, dispensary, etc.; we cleaned and sewed up the polochons - do you know what a polochon is? Probably not. Well, it is a bolster filled with straw. We washed the dishes, the quart- pots, the crockery. We felt everything must be clean and shining before our patients arrived. Lastly, we made the beds, and they were scarcely ready when the wounded began to come in. They were very weary, very badly hurt, poor fellows! We competed with each other in undressing them and getting them to bed; it was a joy to see their delight in stretching under the clean sheets after so much suffering, so many days' travelling!
The buffet - ambulance of Rennes was, I must say, splendidly organised. Mme. Menard, who is a model of zeal, of goodness, managed it with great tact and intelligence; the dressings were well done; the soup, coffee, and other refreshments prepared for the arrivals were very appetising.
The moral of the wounded who came to us from the battles on the Marne was excellent; but several of them were infected with the terrible tetanus germ, picked up from the ground, or from straw that animals had been lying on; many who developed the disease were saved, thank God, by the injections of anti-serum.
We had not the excitement here of the roar of the cannon, the fear of the mitrailleuse; nor was it for us to show the glorious heroism of a dressing-station at the front: our task was in the rear, in a measure hidden, silent, but none the less great and fine in its simplicity.
Our humble task of bee and ant in this corner of Brittany where there are 30,000 wounded brought its mite of service to our country; the women of the Croix-Rouge fulfilled their duty. Mme. de Grailly was admirable. The head doctor, a colonial, Monsieur Damien, was excellent, very just, and eminently conscientious; he was assisted by Major d'Allonne, a relative of Renan; Major Rosenblatt, a Tolstoian Russian; the surgeon Huchet, two dispensers, and fifteen nurses. Comtesse de Grailly, back from her hospital at Fez, managed the house, and order and discipline prevailed. When I closed my eyes I felt a child once more at the Sacre Cceur. I obeyed orders, and was happy to be under military discipline and not to be scolded. Auxiliary Hospital 39 is a lay convent, where no one speaks, no one makes a noise; one had one's own work, and did it.
My great friend was the cook, Madame Augustine, always good-tempered. I was ever teasing her for the special diets I had to give my patients. When the signal was given for meals she never grumbled; things were always ready, no matter how tired she might be.
The Vicomtesse de Murat, Mme. de Grailly's niece, was in charge of the catering department. I pitied her: to satisfy every one, buy wholesome provisions, and expend not more than 1 franc 25 or 1 franc 50 a day a head, is not easy. One day the milk turned-what a hubbub there was; what was to be done? This charming and industrious young lady, not the least put out, remarked, "I know how to make cheese," and she made it from the milk, and we feasted on it for several days.
At our Hospital we all lived on the same food as our patients; the meals were pleasant, and it was the hour of relaxation.
The big dressings were done in the operating theatre under the special supervision of Mdlle. Julliard, the very capable head-nurse; the small dressings in the ordinary wards.
At 6 A.M. the wounded had their coffee; at 10, soup, meat, macaroni or a vegetable, and often dessert. They had cider or wine to drink, and dined at 5 o'clock.
Our soldiers came from all parts; several were natives of Algeria and Oran, and suffered from the damp climate of Brittany. The Parisians were lively and jocular; but never was their chaff in bad taste, never did I hear a light or improper jest. Their judgment was sound, and their patriotism beyond praise. " I am glad to give my leg to my country," said one of them joyously, "provided we are victorious." They were profoundly religious, yet very gay. They whistled like nightingales, and sang in perfect tune. All were eager for news of the war, never for a moment doubtful as to ultimate victory; they were very grateful for the attention they received. Perhaps they would have liked to go out more often, but as to this there had been abuses, and permissions de sortie were rarely given. The wounded received papers, cigarettes, fruit, cakes, books, jam, etc. etc.
One morning a van arrived, filled with flowers, for all the wounded in the town; every one that day had his jar full of sweet-scented blooms, and the letters sent away all contained dried petals. The men were delighted; the wards looked gay and festive.
My patients religiously kept the bullets extracted from their wounds and made souvenirs of them, to be mounted as pins, brooches, rings, or paperweights. But how painful the extraction of shrapnel! it hurt one to look on. One's heart bled at the sufferings of these unfortunate men, for no anaesthetics were given for such minor operations, and their courage really taught one a lesson. This hospital life was very congenial to me; of course it was fatiguing to stand from morning to night, but it was all so interesting! The constant care lavished on the patients endeared them to one doubly, and it was touching when the poor boys called one Maman or Grand'mere- "Mother" or "Granny." They were always afraid of tiring me, and murmured, " Leave this or that for other people to do-for the younger nurses-don't you do so much!"
My special business was dispensing. I made up tisanes, lotions, washes, etc. One day we had a visit from the Archbishop, the Prefet, and General de Marion, the Commandant. The Archbishop was a great success, and found the right thing to say to every one. He spoke to me affectionately of my poor husband, whom he had known at Vannes; one felt he had a heart full of patriotism beating beneath the episcopal robe.
On Saturday, when the linen was changed, there was great competition to see who could get the warmest shirts and the largest handkerchiefs for their wounded!
The President of the Tribunal of Rennes, M. de Savignon, came very often to visit the wounded, and distributed sweet things to them; he brought us all the news, and the invincible optimism with which he was gifted by Providence inspired him with words through which he imbued us with the same spirit. The day his son left for the front his eyes were full of tears, but his words were brave as befits a French father.
One afternoon Dr. Danet, one of my friends from Morbihan, told me he was ordered to organise an ambulance at the Lycee de Garcons (where the second trial of Dreyfus took place). There were 1200 wounded there and not enough nurses; he thought I should be of more use there than where I was. I put the case before Mme. de Grailly; she quite understood, and authorised my departure with many kind expressions of regret. I promised to come back to see her, and I made my preparations rather sadly, grieving at the thought of not doing any more work with my comrades for my dear wounded in the chapel. The head doctor gave me a good certificate, and said they ought not to have let me go, which was flattering. The next day my patients wrote me the following delightful letter. I shall treasure it all my life:
"MADAME LA DUCHESSE
"We are deeply grieved to lose you. We feel as if you were still near us, beside our poor beds of pain, to give us words of comfort, encouragement, and good cheer. We feel how much tenderness and generosity there was in the noble gift you offered us day by day. Our grateful hearts appreciated your delicate and repeated kindnesses, and we all wish, Madame la Duchesse, to express to you, with our very keen and very sad regrets, our sincere and respectful gratitude.
"When we go back to the service of our country or to our own homes, it will be pleasant to think of the hours which your noble heart endeavoured, and always successfully, to beguile. One word rose instinctively from our hearts to say to you, 'Merci, Maman,' 'Thank you, Mother'; some of us were bolder and said it out. May those who are now the objects of your care bless their exile and rejoice in possessing what we have lost; they are the happy ones! May these few lines convey to you the modest expression of our deepest gratitude. We beg you, Madame la Duchesse, to accept our most respectful homage and eternal gratitude.
"The wounded of the Salle Chapelle de l'Hopital 37.
"NICOD, confectioner."
(The signatures of the rest followed.)
I arrived at the Auxiliary Hospital No. 1 and found it immense. I was lost at first, but this feeling soon wore off; indeed, though I hardly know why, I felt less like a schoolgirl; I worked more independently.
Major Danet entrusted me with fourteen wounded; my companions were charming, and the atmosphere was rather civil than military, because the head doctor, M. Perin de la Touche, left his majors a free hand in their departments; they were little kings on their respective floors. My floor was the fourth, and consisted of three large wards and two smaller ones, a hall for dressings, and a dispensary supplied from the big dispensary on the ground floor. There were three assistant doctors, Corbel, Jarry, and Lusel, who chatted in a friendly way with the patients. Dr. Danet was very fatherly and much beloved, and never left the wards. The head nurse was Mademoiselle Gerard Varey, daughter of the rector of the Academy; Madame Danet, Mdlle. Lantin, Mdlle. Bornet, Mdlle. Quinz and I had charge of Ward 45. In the morning between 7.30 and 7.45 we arrived to take temperatures before the doctor came round, and left about 7.30 to 8 P.M., when the night nurses came on.
Our severe cases suffered a great deal-how grievous it was not always to be able to relieve them- how many of them will never be able to walk again! One could only try to inspire them with hope and keep up their spirits.
Thanks to the kindness of the surgeon, Harduin, whom I had met in Paris at the house of Landouzy, the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine, I was allowed to assist at very serious operations. Those for trephining interested me particularly.
I was much impressed by a young waiter from a Paris cafe; they had to take his leg off, and he was full of pluck. He never uttered a word of complaint -how fine it was to see this!
After dinner, about 6 P.M., the wounded often gave a concert without instruments; they played on a key, a bit of wood, a tambourine, or a flute with four stops. It was very droll, even harmonious, and so touching! Beside the beds of the sufferers one forgot personal sorrows, even fear for one's own kin, and the hours flew. To-day Biri from Nancy showed me in he Nouvelliste de Bretagne that my eldest son had been mentioned in despatches for taking 150 prisoners and breaking 300 rifles. I was so glad to hear this from one of the wounded. Recently a soldier coming from the front told me that one evening on the battle-field he heard a young lad, mortally wounded, call to his comrade-priest to give him absolution; the priest ran up, absolved him, was hit himself, and expired first!
For those whose digestion was delicate we cooked eggs in every form, beefsteaks, cutlets, and creams. At 5 o'clock the stove in the hall where the dressings are done was surrounded by white caps; the red flames were reflected on the cheeks of the nurses, and the patients were rosy with joy when they received their favourite little dish.
On days of special duty-that is three times a week -the nurses took it in turn to give up the interval allowed from 12.30 to 2 for lunch. Those were my best days. I used to bring my frugal meal in a basket, install myself in the pantry shut off by a glass door from the ward, and keep guard while I ate, ready to run out at the slightest summons. The afternoon of "the leeches" was one I long remembered! "You must put on some leeches behind the Algerian's ears," the doctor said to me; "get some." I went to every chemist in the town in vain, and discovered to my great surprise that in Rennes they were kept at the bookseller's. Lebaron, our young assistant doctor, Corbel's successor, had never applied nor even seen leeches! Nor had the nurses! So that when I brought in the little creatures there was general and rather timorous amusement. Would they creep from their bottle? should we find them on our necks? we asked in alarm. In the evening, to play a trick on Jarry, they gave him an order to get up at midnight and remove the leeches with coarse salt, but my Jarry, suspecting the joke, did not get up. We used to receive orders enough and military counter-orders about removals, leave, changes in the regulations, and so on. I always said to my wounded,"Article 27, my children, obey, without trying to understand." This made them laugh, and no one questioned anything.
Princess Aymon de Lucinge, sister in Ward 46, was the good angel of the staff. She is so devoted and generous.
Nov. 25. -My youngest son is now in the Artillery, and is going to drive a motor- mitrailleuse. I want to see him before he leaves Vincennes for the front, and alas! can no longer hide from myself that I am very tired and very ill. Just now, when I had to support the leg of the non-commissioned officer Edinger while the shot was taken out of it under chloroform, I asked myself how soon it would be my turn to be put to sleep! Moreover I have got a whitlow from the prick of an infected needle and the claw of the grey cat belonging to Madame Renaudin, the milliner, the best and most saintly woman I know. I have my meals with her, and she and her young hands are grieved at the idea of my departure.
Nov. 26.- I was too weak to get up this morning. In two days I must leave Rennes. My landlady, Madame Robillard, and her daughter nurse me as if I were one of their own family.
Nov. 27.- I have said good-bye to the Hospital. We drank punch and I distributed mistletoe for luck to all the wounded. Major Danet said touching and affectionate things. Edinger, in the name of his comrades, made an eloquent speech to which I found it difficult to reply. Mdlle. Gerard Varey presented me on behalf of the nurses with their framed photographs. We all embraced-we wept- and I departed!
La Duchesse de Rohan Douairiere
Translated by Millicent, Duchess of Sutherland
